


i'm still coming into my own

by Archadian_Skies



Series: the heat that drives the light [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidents, Age Regression/De-Aging, Babysitting, Established Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hurt/Comfort, Jericho Crew (Detroit: Become Human) as Family, Kid Fic, Leo Manfred Redemption, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: An out of control truck destroys most of Ronan’s body and he must be temporarily housed back in the RK-YK500 shell.OrThe Jericho Four take turns babysitting Markus' baby brother.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Elijah Kamski/Leo Manfred, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Sumo, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600/North
Series: the heat that drives the light [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372804
Comments: 26
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this is a direct sequel to [[if you go, take a little piece of me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220943)]. Synopsis: after a sudden mysterious autoimmune illness befalls the RK series, they are temporarily housed in YK500 units while a cure is found.
> 
> This is also Day 28 of [[Whumptober; 31 days of RK900 short stories.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739550/)]

It is one of those crisp, beautiful Sunday mornings in March where there is light snowfall dusting the city like powdered icing sugar. Detroit is starting to bustle with life, the morning sun warm enough to coax people to traverse outside seeking food, seeking company, seeking a chance to peruse and purchase this and that. 

Ronan loves mornings like these, perhaps specifically because he spends them with his brother and father and their faithful hound. It’s a short trip by car and then a lovely walk to the cafe Hank frequented since he was in his rookie days with the DPD and has never stopped providing patronage ever since. They wait at the lights and he catches his father’s eye, Hank giving a somewhat sleepy though fond little smile, cementing just why Ronan loves joining his family for their fortnightly Sunday treat.

The pedestrian light turns green and they stride across the road just as a family with a pram stride across from the other side. He notes their little ensemble; two parents, young girl of about four, and baby bundled up thickly in the pram. They’re just about to pass each other by when he hears it; the screeching and sliding of tires locking up on the slippery black ice, the blaring truck horn, the panicked shouting of the driver. 

[Preconstruct ↓]

They can save them all. They are quick enough. Connor may be a fraction slower, running the same calculations as he, but he knows his brother will prioritise their father at all costs. They trust in each other, in both of them being RK units; faster, smarter and sturdier than typical CyberLife models. 

He and Connor can save them all, but it will cost him his body. That is an acceptable loss.

[Execute]

Ronan sprints forward as Connor yanks their father back, releasing Sumo’s lead so the dog bounds safely across the road as Connor cushions Hank’s fall. He grabs the little girl and sweeps his leg out to catch the pram and kicks it so it skids out of the way, pivoting to grab the parents and shoving them as hard as he can. The truck jackknifes and the middle set of wheels catches him, pulling him under and pinning him flat. Thirium bursts into a puddle beneath him and there’s shouting, so much shouting, and screaming, so much screaming and his system goes into critical care mode, diverting all processes into maintaining a steady flow to his hearts and positronic core. The emergency shunts divert all thirium from his crushed pelvis and legs, sacrificing them in favour of pumping blood to his head and hearts. It even bypasses his arms, deeming them unimportant in the priority list. He closes his eyes and shuts off visual processing as well as verbal capabilities, retaining only his aural sensors to ensure he is aware of his surroundings.

“Ronan! Holy fucking shit, oh Ronan! Son! Son- oh!” He doesn’t need to see Hank to know his father is experiencing acute distress and he knows the situation must look dire; most of him is crushed beneath a truck. 

“Dad he’s alright-”

“Are you fucking kidding?! What part of _this_ looks _alright_ to you?!” Hank bellows as Connor tries to placate him. He can feel Hank’s trembling hands brushing his hair back, can feel his shaky touch on his shoulder, his chest, his forehead as his father panics. There’s sobbing from somewhere behind them, most likely from the parents he saved.

“Listen to me!” Connor commands. “I’m going to detach him and you’re going to drive him to Jericho. It’s the closest MedBay- he won’t make it to CyberLife Tower but I’ve already notified Ms Chloe and she’ll video into the Jericho MedBay while she’s en route.”

“W-what about you?” Hank stammers, and Ronan hears sniffling as his father tries to hold back his tears. There’s sniffing of another kind, Sumo, as the Saint Bernard whines softly and snuffles by his ear, nosing him worriedly. 

“I have to stay here. Ronan’s an RK900. Our tech is...sought after. It can’t fall into the wrong hands. As soon as a medvan comes and extracts the rest of him, I’ll join you at Jericho.”

“He-he’s alright, you _swear_? He’s not moving and- and-”

“He’s alright, dad, I swear.” Connor says, gentler this time. “He’s just shut off as many processes as he can to conserve power and thirium. The sooner you can get him to Jericho, the better, Okay?”

“Okay.” Hank sucks in a deep breath. “Alright. Okay.”

“Give me your jacket.” There’s the sounds of fabric rustling. “Ronan, I’m detaching you from your limbs, on three. One. Two. _Three_.” There’s an awful wet scraping sound as Connor pulls him free and Hank makes a sound of distress mixed with disgust and he knows it’s not the most reassuring sight. He feels Connor lift him and tuck him into their father’s jacket, and into Hank’s hold. “Traffic control’s aware and you have green lights to get you to Jericho. _Go_.”

He’s trying very hard not to focus on how wet his entire front is, nor how the bundle in his arms is the heaviest he’s ever carried but it should be heavier. Ronan should be heavier, but he’s not because he’s only holding _part_ of Ronan and the rest of him is still under that truck. 

“You’re gonna be okay son, you’re gonna be just fine.” He’s saying it mostly for his benefit because Ronan hasn’t opened his eyes at all ever since most of him went under those wheels. Hank’s trying not to think about that sound, that godawful screech, that _crunch_ , the smell of tires and sharp acetone as Ronan’s blood splashed out on the bitumen. As carefully as he can he eases the wrapped bundle into the backseat and yes after a moment’s hesitation he buckles him in using the seatbelts because Hank doesn’t quite trust his own driving right now. 

What he does trust is that Connor’s already sent word ahead and so all he has to do, the one fucking thing up to him, is just get Ronan to Jericho. That’s it. He can do that. He can manage this much.

Taking a deep breath, Hank twists the key and squares his shoulders. One fucking job. He can do this. He has to.

They’re ready and waiting at Jericho. The gates are already open, the guards are waving him through, and there’s the head doctor, the one who looked after them not too long ago when they were poisoned. Dr Anthea, yes, that’s it. He barely kills the engine before the androids are opening the back and carefully extracting Ronan, laying him out on the prepared gurney and wheeling him inside. Hank trails after them numbly, standing back to ensure he’s not in the way as they hook up what’s left of his son, as much of him as Connor could pull out from the wreckage, to various machinery. On one of the screens is Chloe, and he can tell she’s in a car, just as Connor has said, en route to Jericho while she oversees the surgery.

“Status?”

“Emergency arterial shunts were able to close off and seal most of the thirium lines.” Anthea reports, looking him over. “Secondary heart is fractured and dented but still holding. Minor internal bleeding. Primary heart undamaged, positronic core undamaged. Ronan shut down most of his processes to conserve power, which was crucial. ETA?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Chloe replies, looking around and locking eyes with him. “Lieutenant, I know it doesn’t look like it, but Ronan’s in very good condition. A lot could’ve gone wrong but it didn’t. Is Connor on his way?”

“No err- not yet. Said he needed a van to pick up the-” he makes an awkward gesture, the words lodged stubbornly in his throat, “the _rest_ of him. Said he couldn’t just leave him in case they were stolen.”

“A very important decision, yes.”

“We dispatched a medvan and a couple of heavy labourer androids to help.” Anthea nods. “The Jericho Four have also been notified and have sent a drone to monitor the situation. DPD will close off the scene to keep the public at bay.”

“When Connor arrives with the rest of his parts, and I’ve assessed the damage, I’ll have Eli start fabricating a replacement body.”

“You can’t do that here?” Hank frowns. “Jericho can do that, surely?” He’s asked a question he shouldn’t have, because Chloe hesitates and the doctor presses her mouth into a tight line.

“It’s...complicated.” Chloe manages with an apologetic smile. “The RK series is unique and has parts and programming that Eli and I are unwilling to disclose to others.”

Dr Anthea stays quiet though Hank can see she definitely has _opinions_ on this matter she’s not voicing at present. Hank shrugs awkwardly.

“Okay. Yeah uh, sure. So um-” he looks over at Ronan and _christ_ they’ve got his head open now too. “So what happens next? Just- just wait around and Kamski has the body couriered over?”

“It’s not that simple.” Chloe frowns, expression slightly pinched. “As I said, he’s part of the RK series. They’re built differently, so it will take time. It’s…”

“Time he doesn’t have.” Anthea cuts in, brows furrowed and expression stern. “Keeping him like this is a temporary measure. A typical android can be fabricated in an hour, the domestic ones in even less, which is an acceptable period to be in emergency stasis in his state. However if he is kept without proper stimulation to his positronic core he will deteriorate rapidly and lose all sense of self.”

“Wait, so-” Hank flounders, feels the panic rising again just when he thought he’d squashed it under control. “Wait, what does that mean? What do we have to do to help him?”

Chloe tips her head thoughtfully. “Does Jericho still have his YK500 faceplate?” 

Anthea blinks in surprise. “Yes. We dismantled the bodies but kept the faceplates since they’re unique and can’t be used by others.” She nods slowly, understanding blooming on her face. “Transfer him into his YK500 body for the time being, keeping his core active while the new body is fabricated.”

“And in not so dire circumstances like last time.” Chloe adds with a triumphant smile. “He’ll be safe and we’ll have time to construct a new body without having to rush.”

“Alright.” Anthea sighs, nodding. “Alright, we’ll get the parts from storage.”

Not so dire, she said, but every situation where his sons are in danger is incredibly dire, to him anyway. Hank jigs his leg, unable to sit still as he waits outside the operating theatre where they’re putting Ronan back into the kid shell. Chloe had arrived not long after, and shooed him outside as she got to work. He’s so caught up in his anxiety that he doesn’t hear someone sit next to him until they very lightly rest their hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He nearly jumps out of his skin, pressing a hand to his chest as his heart hammers away.

“Sorry Lieutenant, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” It’s Simon, expression apologetic, and Hank feels his heart rate settle into something more normal.

“Sorry kid, I’m stressed out of my head.” He groans, burying his face in his hands. “Can’t a dad just have a normal Sunday with his family, is that somehow too much to ask?”

“It’ll be alright.” Simon soothes with a soft smile. “He’s in very good hands, and then he’ll be in yours. And there’s no one he trusts more than his own father.”

“Thanks for dropping by.” Hank manages belatedly. 

“Of course.” Simon laughs. “He’s one of my dearest friends. It’s important I be here for him.”

“He’d want you to be.” Hank nods gratefully. “So uh, thanks again.”

“Any time.” 

* * *

There’s an awful cacophony of sounds- shouting, screaming, the screeching of tires, the scraping of metal being dragged. He startles awake, frightened and disoriented, but Ms Chloe is there, drawing him into her arms and hushing him softly.

“It’s alright little dove, I’m right here.” She soothes, rubbing his back. Ronan clings to her tightly, feeling overwhelmed as tears roll down his cheeks. He’s scared but he can’t remember why, can’t recall anything more than awful sounds and the feel of lying in something wet. “Shhh, everything’s just fine, sweetheart.” He can’t seem to stop, sobbing softly into her shoulder as she sways side to side slowly, hand still massaging circles into his back.

“Wh-what happened?” He sniffles back his tears as best he can, rubbing his eyes with one hand, reluctant to let go of her with his other.

“There was an accident, but everything’s alright now. Your papa rushed you here as fast as he could, and we took care of you.”

“Dad’s here?” He hiccups, and Chloe presses a kiss to his temple.

“Yes, he’s been waiting ever so patiently just outside.” She crouches to set him back on his feet, offering him her hand which he grasps tightly. “Come on, let’s go see him.”

Just as she had said, Hank is waiting right outside the room and Ronan feels his emotions bubble up again, spilling over and out of his control. He bursts into tears once more and Hank’s small hopeful smile vanishes instantly as the man steps forward and just hoists him up into his arms.

“Aw kiddo c’mere, dad’s got you.” Hank murmurs, bouncing him a little as he squeezes him close. “Shhh, I’m right here. And look, Simon’s here too.”

“S-Simon?” He blinks back his tears, finding the PL600 standing closeby. He reaches out with one hand and Simon clasps it with both of his, stepping forward to kiss his brow. 

“Hello darling.” Warm fingers card through his hair as Simon offers an encouraging smile. “The scary bit is over and we’re here for you. You’re safe now, Ronan. Nothing’s going to harm you.”

He nods tiredly, exhausted from feeling so scared, from crying, from all of it. 

“And good news.” Chloe pipes up from behind him. “Connor’s arrived.”

“Connor?” Perking up at the name, Ronan wriggles to try and look down the hallway, expecting to see his brother. 

“Come on, let’s go meet him outside.” Chloe beckons, but Ronan shakes his head, latching his arms around Hank’s neck. 

“It’s okay, I’ll carry you.” Hank chuckles, patting his back. “Come on kiddo.”

Connor is his older brother, that is a fact. It’s just...Somehow he’s a lot bigger. Ronan thought he’d be a YK500, like him, but he isn’t. Connor is an RK800, a prototype made for detective fieldwork. He is tall and has brown hair and brown eyes and he looks very friendly. At the moment he is covered in a lot of blue blood which Ronan thinks might be his because Ms Chloe said he’d been an accident.

“Hi Connor.” He greets quietly, shyly, because Connor looks very big and important and he’s not sure if he wants to spend time with someone so little. 

“Oh-” Connor’s eyes are wide with surprise when he spots them, and Hank laughs loudly.

“Yeah this is him.” 

“Was I-”

“Yeah. About the same.”

“But he’s- he’s so _small_!” Connor offers him a lopsided grin. “Hi Ronan.” After a moment’s hesitation he reaches out and gently tousles his hair. “Do you know who else is here with me? Sumo!” He stands aside and gestures as Sumo hops out of the taxi, bounding straight for them. Ronan wriggles to be set down, his feet touching the ground just in time for Sumo to barrel into him and knock him over. 

“Hey! Hey you big lump!” Hank tries to scold, but Ronan squeals with laughter as Sumo promptly flops right on him and licks his face. “Alright alright come on.” He grabs the large canine by the collar and coaxes him off while Connor helps him back on his feet. His hand is so small in Connor’s grasp. Fascinating. Connor squeezes his hand as if thinking the same thing, grinning down at him. 

“Shall we go bother Markus? RK sibling reunion?”

“It will have to wait, unfortunately.” Simon sighs, expression apologetic. “He and Josh have a press junket tomorrow so they’re up to their noses in prep work with the admin team.”

“Well, how about we take a photo and send it to him? I’m sure that’ll lift his spirits.” Connor scoops him up to brace him on his hip. “Dad?”

“Sure.” Hank chuckles, fishing out his phone and snapping a quick photo. “I’ll send it to you to send on to him.” He taps the screen a few times before pocketing the device. “Are we good to go? Is there some semblance of normalcy I can salvage for our Sunday?”

“Yes Lieutenant.” Chloe laughs, handing over a backpack. “I’ve put together some supplies which should be plenty for the next coming days though you’re always welcome to more.”

“Absolutely. Just let me know and I’ll have some sent over.” Simon adds with a nod. Smiling, he leans over to kiss the crown of his head. “You stick close to your papa and your big brother, hm? And then maybe on Tuesday you can come stay with Markus and I?”

“Oh!” He gasps, looking over at Hank for permission. “Will that be okay? Can I stay with Simon? Please dad please?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hank grins. “Thanks Simon.”

“Oh it’s an utter delight, I promise you Lieutenant.” Simon laughs, tapping Ronan’s nose playfully. “Every time.”

By the time they all get into the car, thankfully, _blessedly_ cleaned by the MedBay staff, Ronan sitting in the back with Sumo, it’s the middle of the afternoon. He’s not sure what they’ll do now, but the most important thing is they’re all together again and he feels safe and loved. That’s all that matters, really. 

“Well.” Hank sighs as they wait at a red light. “Still time to hole up at a cafe and get something hot to drink for you boys and something hot to eat for me. What do you say?”

“Yes please.” Ronan nods in agreement. A sudden thought crosses his mind as he realises tomorrow is Monday. “Oh um, dad?”

“Yeah kiddo?” 

“I have morning barre class with Ms Chloe tomorrow.”

“Oh shi- shoot, yeah that’s right!” Hank hums in thought. “That’s alright, we can swing by Reed’s after the cafe and grab your gear on the way home.”

“Hank.” Connor’s tone is...he’s not quite sure what that tone is. His brother makes a face he also can’t quite understand, but after a moment it seems their father can decipher it.

“Hm? _Oh_ that’s right. Oh. Jesus, uh-” 

“There’s a dancewear store on the main shopping strip at Greektown. We can get food at Essie’s and pick up Ronan’s clothing.” His brother says patiently, and Ronan hides a smile atop Sumo’s big fluffy head. He has the bestest brother in the whole world, ever so thoughtful, ever so clever.

This is completely unfamiliar territory to him. He’s never set foot inside a _dancewear_ store, not even for Cole. He knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights, standing there awkwardly at the entrance, but Ronan walks in and seems to know exactly what he’s doing. 

“Can I help you?” The salesperson asks, and they’re human and curious and mildly endeared as Ronan peruses the big wall of tights in a spectrum of colours.

“Err- my son’s just- we’re just pickin’ stuff up for class tomorrow. Ballet class.” Hank adds belatedly, and they smile brightly at the information.

“What form is he in? Does the class have a uniform colour?”

“Err-”

“It’s alright, just this one please.” Ronan says politely, holding out a packet of robin’s egg blue tights. His favourite, Hank realises. Ronan always wears the light blue tights for class, he’s seen them in his bag when he stays over on some Sunday nights. “And um-” he walks away once the tights are in their hands, carefully selecting a white shirt from the rack and a pair of soft blue ballet shoes folded in a packet. 

“My my, you certainly know what you’re doing!” They exclaim in a friendly tone, ringing up the total at the register. Hank taps his phone to the console to pay for it, grinning as Ronan accepts the bag with a thankful smile. “What school do you go to?”

“I attend Ballet Detroit. I have class there tomorrow.” He says, tone polite, and they gasp in exaggerated wonder.

“Goodness me! The very best! Well, enjoy class and work hard. I’m sure you’ll be a wondrously accomplished danseur one day.” Their eyes flick over to meet his. “And I’m sure dad will be proud to watch you on opening night.”

Ronan shrinks bashfully under the praise, cheeks rosy as he darts a hopeful glance up at Hank. “I hope so.”

* * *

It’s not exactly the Sunday he’d planned, but the outcome is still the same- time with his boys, and a delicious hot meal in his belly. Hank stretches, breathing in the sharp Spring air. It’s still just on the side of chilly, still not quite out of Winter’s grasp but there’s more and more sunshine now and less and less snowfall. Glancing across the table, he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of Ronan sipping at his hot tearium, listening attentively as Connor tells him all about the history of Greektown’s shopping strip, about the famous Bellini Paints which their other RK brother frequents. The sight is just so damn cute, _too_ damn cute, and for all the horrors of this morning’s truck crash, this certainly feels like an entirely different day to the one that began earlier. Ronan catches his gaze briefly, and the boy offers a big wide smile, cheeks rosy and eyes crinkled. Unable to help himself, he leans over to muss his hair fondly because if he doesn’t provide an outlet for the sheer amount of joy he’s feeling right now he may just explode. 

They walk through the park so Sumo can go for a run and stretch his legs. The dog manages to find a good sized stick and bounds over to drop it at Ronan’s feet. Delighted, the boy picks it up and gives it a good throw, laughing as Sumo lollops after it. The sound, god the _sound_ of little laughter fills Hank to the brim with happiness. He plonks himself down on a nearby bench and takes out his phone, recording a couple of videos of Ronan playing fetch, of Ronan gleefully chasing Sumo, of Ronan being scooped up by his big brother and put on his shoulders just so he can see the world from up on high. 

The sun still sets earlier and the light still fades quicker, and android or not, little kids still tire themselves out. 

“Okay kiddo, home time.” Hank declares when he sees the tell-tale signs that Ronan’s quite literally running out of battery. The boy is yawning and rubbing his eyes and his smiles are a little less buoyant though no less charming by any means. Connor hoists him back into his arms and by the time they get to the car he’s already fast asleep. 

“Was I like this too?” Connor asks, voice hushed as he eases him into the backseat. Sumo patiently waits until they’ve extracted themselves before plodding in and resting his big head on Ronan’s lap.

“Yeah.” Hank chuckles at the memory of little Connor sitting right there beside little Ronan and holding hands while he drove them home. “You seemed to have endless energy and then it’s like a switch was flipped and you’d conk out just like that. Just like any other kid would.”

“I wish I could remember it.” He says mournfully as he gets into the front passenger seat. “It sounded like I had a good time.”

“You did. You were the perfect big brother to Ronan.” Hank reassures him, reaching across to squeeze his shoulder. “And you still are.”

Chloe hadn’t really been able to give him a proper timeframe, only that for at least the next three days Ronan would need to remain in the YK500 body while they constructed the new RK900. It could be much longer than that, given they’ve never built one from scratch. Given he was a CyberLife top secret project. They’ve only ever repaired him, they’ve never had to construct him from blueprints before and Hank concedes that yes, that warrants taking their time. They can take as long as they goddamn want, really, since it’s the safety of his son he’s entrusted to them.

Another part of him also wants Ronan to stay this way for a little while because the boy needs love like this, he deserves to be given love without hesitation, without fear or intimidation due to his large, looming figure. And it’s trash because Ronan’s one of the kindest, gentlest people he’s ever come to know, it’s just that the kid had a rough start that was of no fault of his own.

Actually, deep down, Hank knows he wants Ronan to stay this way for a little while because he misses being a father to a young boy. He misses parenting Cole. Not that he’d ever say it aloud, because parenting Connor and Ronan is in itself a second chance he never thought he’d be given. It’s just that Cole was snatched from his life far too soon and he never really got to settle into that stage of his growth. He just wants to take his time, and time is never something he seems to have.

“Dad?” Ronan whispers, one hand balled into a fist clutching his shirt and head pillowed on his chest. Hank rubs his back and tries to blink away the sudden burn of tears glazing his eyes. He just wants to have a little more time to read him bedtime stories, to stay right here, like this, for a little while longer.

“Yeah kiddo?”

“I um-” he looks away, shame mixing into his sleepy expression. “I don’t want to sleep here alone. Can I stay with Connor? Or…” And he knows what he wants to say after ‘or’, and he thinks of all those nights Cole snuck into his room and tucked himself beside him and he’s not sure if his heart will be able to handle it again. 

“Come stay with me, I don’t mind.” Connor to the rescue, standing there in the doorway framed by the hallway light like an angel at the eleventh hour. Well, eighth, in this case. “Bed’s definitely big enough for an extra small guest.”

“I’m not extra small!” Ronan huffs, pouting petulantly as he sluggishly untangles himself from beneath Hank’s arm. It’s parenting reflexes that has Hank shooting out a hand to grab the scruff of Ronan’s pyjama top, effectively stopping the boy midair and preventing him from toppling out of the bed to fall face-first onto the floor. Still got it, just buried deep, waiting to be used again. He can’t help but laugh as he gently corrects Ronan upright, and Connor crouches, arms open and ready to receive the younger sibling. 

“You’re positively pocket-sized.” Connor teases as he lifts him up. “I could tuck you in my pocket and go about my day.”

“Nooooo!” Ronan whines, latching his arms around his neck and clinging tightly. 

“Alright alright, not this time. Maybe tomorrow.” He hums in thought, chuckling when Ronan whines again. “I’ll tuck him in, dad, don’t worry. Sleep well. Say goodnight to Hank, Ronan.”

“Goodnight dad.” Ronan yawns widely, nuzzling into the crook of Connor’s neck. He gives him a sleepy wave, and Hank manages one in return before Connor carries him out of the guestroom and down the hall to his own bedroom.

The Kamskis work quickly, tirelessly, ceaselessly and one doesn’t have to know them personally to know their work ethos. Just this once, though, Hank hopes they take their time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober really fried my braincells, and it's been a struggle to get this one out but I'm excited to find my groove again and get back to writing this adorable poppet <3 Many thanks to my motley crew of sandbox collaborators Indi, Ari and Kess <3

It’s been some time since he’s had to get a kid ready for school. He hasn’t missed the early start, that’s for sure, but he’s certainly missed this: the sight of a small child fast asleep, face lax, almost buried under blankets and quilts with not a care in the world. Connor is already awake, looking down at his brother with a sense of wonder on his face. He looks up in time to catch Hank’s bemused grin, and ducks his head, expression sheepish.

“Shall I wake him?”

“Yeah. He still needs to get dressed and have breakfast.” Hank nods. “And we’ll need time to drive down against the morning traffic.”

“Okay.” Connor keeps his voice soft, hand hovering as if reluctant to touch Ronan, as if the boy were made of glass and could shatter under too much pressure. Overcoming his hesitation, Connor very gently shakes his brother’s shoulder. “Ronan? Ronan, it’s time to wake up. We have to get you ready for your class.”

As predicted, Ronan whines loudly, burrowing deeper beneath the sheets. Hank laughs as Connor shoots him a desperate look, clearly unsure as to how to proceed. 

“Go pack his bag and heat us some drinks, Connor, I’ve got this.” Hank chuckles, waving him off. He sits down on the side of the bed Connor’s just vacated, reaching to gently rub Ronan’s back. “Come on kiddo, time to get up.”

“Nooo.” Ronan whines again, though he shuffles a little closer to him as if subconsciously seeking his warmth. 

“I guess we’re just going to be late and Ms Chloe will be missing her favourite dance partner.” Hank sighs heavily, and Ronan gasps, scrambling to sit upright.

“No!” 

“No? You sure you don’t want to sleep in a bit more?” He cocks a brow, fighting the urge to smile as Ronan shakes his head rapidly.

“No! I want to go to class on time! I don’t want Ms Chloe to wait!” 

“Alright then, let’s get you ready.” Hank nods, peeling back the covers so Ronan can crawl out of bed. At least with an android there’s no need to usher him into the bathroom for a morning toilet break and brushing teeth routine. He skips right ahead to helping him get dressed, choosing lighter clothes now it’s Spring but still plying him with a heavier outer layer since there’s still a chill in the air. Combing his fingers through his hair smooths back the worst of the bedhead, and by the time Hank leads him to the kitchen Connor’s setting out three mugs on the kitchen counter. Far too small to reach the counter himself, Hank lifts Ronan to sit on one of the barstools and Connor carefully nudges his mug within reach.

“Look at that. We’re making good time, I think we’ll be there just as Ms Chloe arrives.” Hank quips, smiling proudly at Ronan as he grabs his own mug of coffee. Ronan beams up at him and Hank can’t help but chuckle, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of his head. The boys drink their fancy android milk teas as Hank crunches through two pieces of buttered toast, washing it down with coffee and that’s the breakfast routine done and dusted with about two minutes to spare.

“Everyone out and in the car. Ronan, don’t forget your bag. Connor, make sure the back door is locked.” He orders them around, grabbing his keys and wallet from the console table. “Scarf for you, kiddo.” It’s a bit too long for Ronan, given it’s meant for a grown man, but he wraps the chunky knitted scarf around his neck anyway because the morning air is still too sharp and Hank still worries too much. 

Traffic’s only a mild nightmare and they’re right on time as Hank pulls the car up outside Ballet Detroit on Broadway. There’s Chloe standing on the steps, waving enthusiastically as Ronan does the same. Hank gets out to open the door, and Connor leans over to undo his seatbelt before he helps him out.

“Alright kiddo, I’ll see you after class.” He ruffles Ronan’s hair as Ronan reaches for Chloe’s outstretched hand.

“Actually, Lieutenant, I’d like to take him around with me if that’s alright?” Chloe asks, looking at Ronan with a bright smile. “I thought it’d be nice to spend the morning in the city and the day at the Tower. Keep him busy while you and Connor are hard at work.”

“Are you sure that’ll be alright?” Hank frowns, unsure.

“It’s perfectly fine. I’m going to have a very good helper following me around today.” She rests her hand atop Ronan’s head and the boy smiles brightly up at her. 

“You want to spend the day with Ms Chloe, Ronan?” He crouches down, hands on Ronan’s shoulders. The boy nods. “And if at any point you want me to come get you, just give me a call alright?”

“Okay dad.” He nods again, solemnly this time. 

“Atta boy.” Hank tips his chin up with his knuckles. “Alright, off to class with you.”

“Bye dad, bye Connor.” Ronan waves shyly as Connor smiles and waves back.

“Well then.” Chloe giggles, giving his hand a squeeze. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” He nods, carefully following her up the steps. They part to get changed into their ballet clothes, and he knows the way because obviously he’s done this before. There’s only one other danseur getting changed, and he gives Ronan an odd look which is probably because he’s running about a minute late now, so he must hurry if he’s to be in the studio before the ballet mistress arrives. Tugging off his clothing, he folds them into a neat stack on the bench before taking out his ballet clothes and putting the stack in the bag to take their place. The white shirt with the scooped neckline goes on first, and then the tights, and then the shoes. Since he and Ms Chloe are not part of the ballet corps, they do not have a locker so he brings his bag with him and hurries down the hallway. Ms Chloe is ready and waiting, and they place their bags in the corner once they step inside the studio before joining the back of the class so as not to impose.

“Chloe?” The ballet mistress frowns. “I do not teach children.”

“Oh he’s n-” Chloe smiles apologetically. “This is Ronan.” Everyone is staring at them and Ronan fidgets under their gaze, fighting the urge to hide behind her. 

“ _Ronan_?” She echoes and everyone whispers in hushed voices, surprise on their faces as they stare at him even more intensely. “What have you done to our lovely 6’5” danseur?”

“He-” Chewing her lip, she shoots him a somewhat strained look. “There was a bit of an accident.”

“He is alright?”

“I- I am alright, ma’am.” Ronan tries to speak up, feeling his cheeks grow hot. 

“Well…” She looks unsure, pressing her mouth into a tight line. “I suppose we can just hold class as normal, if you’re still Ronan.”

“I- I am still Ronan, ma’am.” He nods rapidly, reaching for the barre and belatedly realising it’s too high for him to use. “Oh-”

“Quickly quickly.” She snaps her fingers at two of the dancers on the far side of the room. “Bring the spare and we can adjust it. Ronan, over there, please.”

“Yes ma’am.” He hurries over to the newly lowered barre, resting his hand on it lightly and standing in first position. 

“We’ll begin with a simple _tendu._ Grip the barre, left leg forward and flex and point. Passing back, then _fondu_ front, _ron-de_ to the side, and first-side-first. Same for the other leg. Left, right left. Then transfer _port de bras_. Yael, let’s begin please.” She claps her hands twice at the pianist who begins playing a soft soothing tune. “And...one-”

Ronan tips his chin up slightly, shoulders squared as he follows through with her instructions, taking care to keep in time with the piano music. He inhales for the upper movements and exhales for the lower, trying to ease himself as elegantly, as openly as the teacher commands. She watches them critically, correcting them here and there, and these simple repetitions are crucial in warming up the muscles for the humans, with the added bonus of calibrating limb functionalities for androids. He likes it. His HUD is overlaid with his statistics and they show the minute incremental adjustments his programming makes to align his body. 

“Now lean back, keep those arms steady and exhale as you curve your spine.” She instructs, nodding. “Yes, that’s it. Keep your movements fluid. Hands on the barre. Now we repeat for the right side.”

They finish the set and the pianist pauses as they await new instructions. 

“Two _demi-plié,_ keep your _port de bras_ long and elegant as you drop into a _grand-plié_. Really feel the length of the body as you lower into that full _plié._ ” The teacher demonstrates it elegantly, and Ronan hopes he can imitate such grace. “Push the floor away as you rise up, long backs at the knees, and _demi_ , and _demi, then_ _grand._ ” She claps her hands twice, the pianist resuming the light, airy tune. “Hannah, Yulia, Victor- eyes forward. _Stop staring."_ There’s something harsh in her tone, followed by a trio of apologies murmured under their breaths, and Ronan purses his lips, trying to focus and not buckle under the scrutiny. They must be staring at him and he must not be doing well. He feels his cheeks grow hot again, and his eyes burn a little.

“Ronan, that’s beautiful.” As if reading his mind, the teacher comes to stand beside him, hands very gently correcting him. “Just make sure to open up when you drop into the _grand-plié_. Do not worry about the others. Eyes forward. Slowly, slowly, don’t rush it. There now, perfect.” 

He can’t help but beam up at her before he can help himself, and she laughs softly, but not unkindly. “You’re doing great. Remember this is not a test, it is a warm-up to ensure you keep your body in good dancing condition.”

Taking her words to heart, he tunes out everyone else around him and listens only to her, follows only her commands and loses himself to the rolling notes of the piano. The warm-ups grow from simple stretches to more complex combinations as the tune picks up tempo, transforming into something more lively, more jaunty. He can feel his system kick up its processes to allow him to keep pace with them. It’s a strange feeling; he knows he is able to do this, he has done it before only he can’t quite remember the last lesson. His body eases him through the motions but there’s no memory connected to it, nothing crystal clear anyway. He must have done this a hundred times but he cannot recall any of those times with great clarity. Strange, perhaps, but the motions bring him comfort, bring him joy, bring him a sense of peace.

“Alright, clear the barres, we’ll move on to floor work.” The ballet mistress orders as the tune pitters out. “We’ll use fourths; _rond de jambe_ , _rond de jambe_ , _fondu_ slow, ladies _pas de bourrée_ , gents _passé_ into fifth. Slow _fondu_ front, slow _fondu_ back, slow _fondu_ side. Pushing up onto demi-pointe, _plie, pas de bourrée_ to fourth, _pirouette_ to fourth, _dégagé_ _rond de jambe_ into _préparation_ , breathe, swap sides. Repeat. Thank you Yael, let’s begin.” She says it only once, and that is all they are given but it’s all they need. The pianist resumes and Ronan drops his shoulders a little to jut his chin up, choosing a spot at eye level to focus on in order to execute the full rotation needed in a _pirouette_. Soon he’s crossing the floor, and it feels familiar, it feels second nature, as if a part of his programming all along. He catches Ms Chloe’s warm gaze in the large mirrors briefly and she smiles. 

The progress from their turns to their jumps now and Ronan feels a small ball of apprehension wind tightly in his core as he watches them take the barres away. He’s very small and the floor space seems so very big to cross in so few leaps. It will take him more leaps to make it across and he will be out of time with the music. Seemingly sensing his apprehension, Chloe rests her hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry little dove. Just fly as far as you can and that will be enough.” She is right, she always is somehow, and when he makes his _grand jetés_ and isn’t able to cross the room entirely, it’s still perfectly acceptable to the ballet mistress who nods approvingly. 

“Very good form, Ronan.” She compliments, and he smiles again and then suddenly his feet aren’t on the floor anymore as someone picks him up.

“Ohhhh but he’s _so_ cute!” It’s Victor, one of the danseurs, and he grins down at him. “How about we assist on the leaps? Bet we can help you jump super high and super far!”

“Oh um, but won’t that be troublesome?”

“No Ronnie, you’re _adorable_ , you’re not troublesome at all!” Hannah laughs as Victor sets him back on his feet.

“He’s not a toy.” The teacher clicks her tongue. “He’s here to take class like the rest of you.”

They are not treating him like a toy, not really, and he doesn’t mind because actually, they’re very lovely and they make him laugh. The ballet mistress concedes a little, because though the lesson continues, she lets them assist him with his leaps and jumps. He can manage his double _cabrioles_ all by himself, though, and they all clap enthusiastically which makes him very very happy.

When it’s time for the ballet corps to rehearse their actual ballet programs, the lesson is over. They seem sad to see the lesson conclude, and Ronan finds himself being picked up and embraced by a few of the dancers. They hug him tightly and he plays with Hannah’s hair a little and Victor bumps his nose against his, making him giggle. 

“Thank you for being so lovely with him.” Chloe smiles softly as she takes his hand once he’s back on his feet. “We’ll see you all next week.”

“Bye bye Ronnie!” They chorus their goodbyes and Ronan waves back cheerfully, finding himself still smiling brightly even as he goes back to the lockers to change out of his ballet gear. 

He rejoins with Chloe at the end of the hallway, reaching for her hand. 

“Where shall we go now, Ms Chloe?” He watches as her LED blinks yellow briefly, and a taxi pulls up just as they’re coming down the steps.

“Well, I was thinking we could visit Theo at his brewery before we head to CyberLife Tower.” Chloe leans over to buckle his seatbelt securely. “How does that sound?”

“Theo’s!” Ronan gasps. “They have the hot chocolate flavour there!”

“They do! It’s their house speciality.” She brushes his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Do you remember that taste?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I um. I think I had it with dad. And Connor.” He tries to think about it and he can remember the taste. And he can remember Hank and Connor. He can’t quite put all those pieces together, though.

“How about we have some, and then bring some back for Connor?” 

“Yes!” He gasps, nodding rapidly. “That’s a great idea!”

Theobald’s Brewery has a purple storefront and was previously a pharmacy before the conversion into a brewery. It’s not quite a cafe, not like dad’s favourite one with many tables and chairs, but there’s a long bar table in the storefront attached to the brewery where there’s limited seating for androids to have a cup of Tearium if they so wish as they make their purchases. He doesn’t quite remember meeting Theo, and Theo looks at him with surprise confirming they might not have met yet. 

“Good morning Ms Chloe.” He greets her politely, before turning his eyes back on him. “And who is this little man?”

“This is Ronan.” She rests her hand atop his hair. “Yes. That one. A bit of a... _complicated_ situation, culminating in this solution.” 

“Again?” He says slowly, vaguely. Chloe nods, laughing softly.

“Yes, again. Just for Ronan this time.” A pause before she hastily adds. “Not the same circumstances as last time, though, I assure you!”

“I was in a vehicular accident.” Ronan pipes up, trying to use a big word for the grownups. “But I am alright now.”

“What a brave young man you are, hm?” Theo crouches slightly. “Taking all that in stride. Your dad must be very proud.”

“I think he is.” Ronan hopes he is, anyway.

“We were hoping for some hot chocolate to chase the chill away before I head into work.” Chloe lifts him up to sit on one of the bar stools. His feet dangle a great height above the floor, and he swings them idly. 

“Coming right up.”

“Oh um! Can we please have one bottle to take with us for Connor?” Ronan asks, and Theo grins.

"O'course you can, little man.” He plucks a bottle from the shelf behind him. “What a good brother you are, remembering to bring one back for him.”

Chloe looks over at him fondly, brushing back his hair. “He’s the very best.”

CyberLife Tower looms up ahead and Ronan doesn’t know why he shivers, but he does, and somehow it looks very scary even though it’s only a building. Ms Chloe nods at the security checkpoint and the bollards come down as the guards wave her through. She’s very very important, and he feels very lucky he’s here with her. Ronan holds onto her hand again as they walk into the lobby, the security scanners passing over them.

[ _RT600, Chloe Kamski: identified._ ]

[ _RK900 Prime Unit, Ronan Anderson: identified._ ]

He blinks, tipping his head slightly in confusion. RK900? Prime Unit? He looks up at Chloe who gives him an apologetic smile. 

“It’s a different security key because children are not generally here at the Tower unaccompanied by their parents.” She explains as they enter the lift. RK900s are not part of CyberLife’s catalogue- Ronan checks, and really, RK800s are not either so he cannot find information on Connor when he looks. Special security keys for special Andersons. 

“Kamski, Chloe. Level 50.” 

[ _Voice recognition validated. Access authorised. Level 50._ ]

“Um.” He wrings his hands anxiously. “I’m not sure what I’ll do here. I’m not clever enough to help you with your work, Ms Chloe.”

“Not at all, you’re _plenty_ clever, Ronan.” Chloe chides, resting her hand gently atop his head as the elevator begins its ascent. “I need a little helper today, and you are perfect for the job.” 

They come to a stop at level fifty and are scarcely out of the elevator when they are approached by an ST300. He recognises the model because there are two of them at the DPD where dad works- Ms Beth and Ms Stephanie. 

“You had your channel muted!” She looks harried, brows creased with worry. “The meeting’s been brought forward because the ambassador’s schedule underwent a last minute change- it’s due to commence in six minutes!”

“Oh-” Chloe frowns, looking from her to him. “This certainly puts a spanner in the works. Ronan, I’m going to have to entrust you with some errands, can you do that for me?”

He’d do anything for her, really. “Yes Ms Chloe.” He nods obediently, trailing her as she heads for what he assumes to be her desk. It’s a beautiful, large airy space that’s both homely and work-oriented. It’s clearly designed for two, but the other side of the room is unoccupied despite the multiple mugs strewn around. It’s coffee- he can tell by the strong smell, because Hank drinks it a lot too though perhaps not at this volume. 

“Now, there’s several data packets here that must be transferred physically because of the highly sensitive nature of their contents.” Chloe explains as she hands him a tablet. “It’ll require a cable transfer and a security code, which the recipient will have, and cannot initiate unless you are holding the tablet physically as it is in tune with your double heartbeat frequency.” It’s a lot of words but he thinks he understands, and he nods to show he has accepted this mission. Chloe’s smile is apologetic. “I’m sorry little dove, I promise once this meeting is over I’ll come find you and we’ll explore the Tower a little, how does that sound?”

“That sounds very nice.” He smiles shyly, giggling when she presses her lips to his cheek. 

“Alright darling. The list of recipients is on the most recent page of the notes app.” She embraces him briefly before guiding him back to the elevator. “Your special security key will grant you access to every level needed. Do you remember what it was?”

“RK900 Prime Unit, and then my name Ronan Anderson but I have to say Anderson, Ronan.” He recites carefully, and Chloe smiles proudly as she nods, sweeping his hair back with her fingers.

“That’s right! Now off you go. I have this really really important meeting now with a very important person but I promise I’ll spend time with you after.” She crouches down to wrap him in a tight embrace, and Ronan closes his eyes briefly, finding comfort in the way she smells like honey and flowers. “When you’re done you’re welcome to wait up here again, or on Level 7 there’s a play centre for the children of the staff here. You can go there and make new friends if you like.” She presses her lips to his temple before releasing him and straightening up, brushing creases from her skirt. The elevator door opens and Ronan steps inside, waving as Chloe waves goodbye.

Pressing the power button on the tablet, the device comes to life and he opens the notes app to see what floor he needs to go to first. 

[ _Please indicate your identity and destination._ ]

“Um- RK900 Prime Unit; Anderson, Ronan. Level 47. Please.” He adds the please, because it’s polite to do so.

[ _Security key validated. Access authorised. Level 47._ ]

“Thank you.” He calls out, because it’s polite to do that as well. The A.I. has the same accent as him, and he likes that something else talks the way he talks. The elevator descends, making two extra stops along the way as other people get in, and he very pointedly ignores their stares, before it deposits him at level forty-seven. The office is easy to find, and the first transfer is made, and the CyberLife employee sends him away once it’s done. It feels good to tick the first objective as complete, and Ronan smiles as he heads back into the elevator. Reaching up, he presses level thirty-one.

“RK900 Prime Unit; Anderson, Ronan. Level 31, please.” The elevator confirms his security key and floor, descending once again though this time they make four additional stops.

“You lost, kid?” Someone asks, and he quickly shakes his head.

“I’m running errands for Ms Chloe.” He informs them, and they frown.

“You’re a kid, what does she need a kid to run errands for?”

“She is in a really really important meeting with a very important person.” Ronan echoes her earlier words. “So I’m helping her out by making data transfers.”

“You can’t make those, only an android with security clearance can hold that device.” They’re still frowning, and at the mention of the tablet Ronan hugs it tightly to his chest.

“I am a YK500 android. I have security clearance.” 

“Do you think they got out of childcare?” Someone else asks, and they’re frowning too.

“Probably.” They roll their eyes and look down at him again. “Kid, how about we drop you off at childcare and take back that tablet? You won’t get in trouble, we promise.”

“No! I have to do this for Ms Chloe!” Ronan shouts, squeezing the device protectively. “I can do it! I’ve already started my list of objectives and I’ve already made the first transfer!” 

“Only authorised-”

“I have authorisation! RK900 Prime Unit; Anderson, Ronan!” He says loudly and tries not to cry because if the humans take the tablet he will fail his mission and he never wants to disappoint Ms Chloe. “I have to go to level thirty-one!”

“Prime-” They blink in surprise.

[ _Security key validated. Access authorised. Level 31._ ]

“Oh my god. _Terminator_? But-”

“What the _fuck_ are the Kamskis on?” The other person laughs, and everyone else laughs with them and Ronan hates this, he hates that they’re laughing about him and about Ms Chloe.

“I-I can do this! Ms Chloe trusts me to do it!”

“Listen kid, not only did I work _on_ RK900 Prime, I had Prime threaten me with a sword.” They cross their arms over their chest, cocking a brow at him. “So to hear a little squirt say they’re Prime? That’s got to be a joke.”

“It’s not! I’m not joking! Or lying!” Ronan sniffs back his tears, still holding onto the tablet in case they tried to take it.

“I’m taking you back to childcare where I’m sure they’re stressing out over their missing kid.” 

“No! I won’t go!”

[ _Ronan Anderson has been verified via unique security key._ ]

“...Err- what?” They blink in surprise. “Did the elevator just _talk back_?”

“Is this some new update they rolled out?”

“Fuckin’ hell, the fuckin’ Kamskis are always pulling this shit.” They groan, shaking their head.

“Please take me to level thirty-one!” Ronan raises his voice to be heard over the adults.

[ _Security key validated. Access authorised. Level 31._ ]

“Wait- I pressed level thirty-nine!” The person scoffs, rolling their eyes. “Fuck, does it prioritise by security key or something? Is it faulty?”

“They’re not faulty!” Ronan shouts, and he doesn’t like shouting but he thinks this time it is alright to shout. One of the others gives him a look he can’t quite understand, before they sigh tiredly.

“Just let it go, Gruen.”

They finish the rest of the trip in silence, though the one called Gruen glares at him like he’s very unpleasant to look at and Ronan does not like it at all. 

[ _Level 31_ ]

“Th-thank you!” Ronan calls as he pushes past the adults to exit the elevator. He very pointedly ignores their sniggering, focusing instead on locating the office of the recipient of the next data packet.

Thankfully the next seven stops are uneventful, and though he gets a few odd looks, and a few confused, colourful curses when the elevator chooses to stop at his requested floor before theirs, no one accuses him of being a lost child, or tries to take the tablet from him. 

“Um, thank you for all your help.” He looks up at one of the security cameras. “You’ve been very nice to me and took me to all my floors first.”

[ _You’re welcome, Ronan._ ]

“Do you have a name?”

[ _I do not have a name. I am a rudimentary A.I. programmed to run this elevator, I have no other purpose._ ]

“Well, everyone needs a name.” Ronan frowns. “Dad’s car is called Captain, and he said it’s because it’s a 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme Brougham and pirates use cutlasses so he named it as if it were a pirate with a high rank.” The elevator makes no reply, and Ronan tips his head thoughtfully. “What if I call you Ellie because you are an elevator?”

[ _Ellie. Because I am an elevator. That is a logical decision. My name is Ellie._ ]

“Thank you Ellie!” Ronan smiles proudly, glad they liked their given name. “I’ve finished all my missions, and um, I don’t really want to go to childcare. May I please return to Ms Chloe’s office?”

[ _Would you like to see the arboretum? There is a nest of Eurasian collared-doves in one of the trees._ ]

“Oh! I would like that very much, Ellie, thank you.” Ronan says politely, smiling when it makes a little chime of confirmation. The arboretum is on sub-level one but some of the trees there reach all the way up until level five. It’s very lovely, and the ground level has other greenery, other florals planted amongst the thick tree trunks. He spots the nest of doves tucked high up on one of the branches, just like Ellie said. He thinks it was very kind of them to guide him here. He takes his time walking around the level and when he returns to the elevator he thinks it might be time to meet Ms Chloe again.

“Um, Ellie, shall I-” He pauses, because grownup meetings take a very long time and it hasn’t been a very long time. Perhaps a long time, but not very. And Ms Chloe did say his special security key granted him access to all levels. “Please may I see- see where Mr Kamski is? Is he working on something? He wasn’t in the big office when I was there with Ms Chloe.”

[ _I can take you to sub-level 50. That is where Mr Kamski last travelled to, and he has not stepped back into the elevator since leaving._ ]

“I’d like that very much, thank you Ellie.” Ronan nods, standing at the back in case more people got on. Which they did, and they give him more confused looks, and one even asks if he is lost, but he tells them no he is not and he is going to meet Mr Kamski. They give him a funny look, but say nothing else, and get off at sub-level forty. He is alone when the elevator stops at sub-level fifty. He is still alone when the doors open, because it is a big, _big_ laboratory with many machines and up ahead is Mr Elijah Kamksi.

Though he is little, and his shoes are little, they somehow make big noises when he walks, and Mr Kamski turns around to look at him. He frowns before his eyebrows go up in surprise, and Ronan is only able to see some sort of very tall android on the dais before Mr Kamski strides forward and he is suddenly unceremoniously picked up into the human’s arms. He grips the tablet tightly, taking care not to drop it as the grownup maneuvres him into a better hold.

“You are not supposed to be here.”

“Why is there only one android here, but so many machines?” Ronan asks, his voice a little muffled because Mr Kamksi is pressing his face into his shoulder as he carries him back to the elevator.

“Because it is a special android that cannot be made on the manufacturing levels, by the regular manufacturing machines.” He explains, depositing him back on his feet in the elevator. “How did you get here?”

“I asked Ellie to take me to where you were.” Ronan explains, watching as the human presses the button for level fifty. “A-and Ms Chloe said my security key gives me access to all levels.”

“Kamski, Elijah. Level 50.”

“ _Please_ .” Ronan frowns up at him. “You have to say _please_ to Ellie.”

“...Level 50, please, Ellie.”

[ _Elijah Kamski; identified. Level 50_ ]

“You named the elevator A.I. Ellie? As in ‘elevator’?” Mr Kamski grins briefly. 

“Everyone needs a name. Even cars have names.” Ronan fidgest under his intense gaze. “And just because they’re an A.I. doesn’t mean you can forget your manners.”

“Quite right.” Mr Kamski laughs softly. “Now I think Chloe still isn’t done with her meeting, but I can’t have you getting lost in the Tower- I know Ellie will help you, but the floors themselves are very big and very confusing without an objective.” He nods at the tablet in his arms. “So I think it’s best you and I wait for her in the office.” He says it in that grownup way which means Ronan isn’t allowed to argue, and though he wants to explore more, Mr Kamski is right. What if there are more people like that Gruen person who wants to just send him away to the play centre and not even listen to what he has to say? No thank you, he would not like that at all. 

[ _Level 50_ ]

“Thank you Ellie.” He says, and then looks at Mr Kamski, who concedes with a small smile.

“Yes, thank you Ellie.” Trailing after Mr Kamski, Ronan looks around to find Ms Chloe still not back from her meeting as the grownup had stated. Two fingers are pressed to his temple suddenly, and they are not human fingers they are android fingers and Mr Kamski’s right arm and hand is not human like the rest of him. “You are about due for a nap. Charge is starting to deplete and fluid levels are low. Have you had anything to eat or drink today?”

“I had milk tea for breakfast, and um, hot chocolate at Theo’s after morning barre class.” Ronan realises he does feel a little light-headed and more than a little bit tired. 

“That was certainly many hours ago, Ronan.” Mr Kamski clicks his tongue, shooing him to a nearby couch. “I’ll have Audrey bring you something to drink.” Reaching over, he snags a thick knitted blanket and shakes it open, draping it around him loosely. “Just sit tight.”

The combination of warmth and the quiet of the office instantly make Ronan even more hyper aware of just how tired he is. Mr Kamski leaves his line of sight and Ronan slowly curls up on his side and closes his eyes. It’ll just be for a moment, until Mr Kamski gets back of course.

Just a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Morning barre class was inspired by this year's session by the Australian Ballet, for World Ballet Day.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HULqsUuAsU)  
> Also some C U T E smols doing ballet: [The Nutracker](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KGsgpFiswQ) and [Paris Opera Ballet Boys Class.](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/post/77578068835/aurelie-dupont-paris-opera-ballet-school-6th)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 1:23am on Friday the 25th of December here in Australia, so let me wish you all a very Merry Christmas, a belated Hanukkah, and a wonderful holiday season!

It has been many moments, Ronan realises when he opens his eyes. There is a cup on a saucer on the coffee table in front of him, and he reaches for it carefully after sitting up. It isn’t as hot as it should be, but there’s residual warmth left enough that it is still enjoyable. It is coded to taste like honey lemon tea, with the citrus tang balanced by the sweetness of the honey. 

“Ah Ronan, you’re awake.” Mr Kamski comments as he comes around to sit beside him. He places a medium sized box on the table. “Chloe is still at her meeting and I’ve found something both entertaining and physically challenging for a YK500 model with the added bonus of aiding me.”

“RX-93 V.Gundam, E.F.S.F. Lond Bell Unit; Amuro Ray’s use Mobile Suit for New Type.” Ronan reads the text on the box depicting some sort of mecha model. “1/144 RG.”

“You see, this is an exercise in precision and dexterity.” Mr Kamksi explains as he opens the box and takes out the pre-assembled frames with all the parts molded onto the sprue trees. “The RG, Real Grade, series is based on the 1:1 scale Gundam that once stood in Odaiba. In 2020 they were able to program it to move via hydraulics but it was still attached to a frame. I would’ve loved to have worked on it, but at that time CyberLife was already starting to grow as a company and Chloe and I were preparing for her Turing Test.”

“You said ‘once stood’, did they disassemble it?” Ronan asks as Mr Kamski hands him a sprue tree sheet of parts and he begins to dutifully pop them out and separate them into neat piles according to the instructions. 

“Oh yes, and then they rebuilt it anew, to function independently of its frame.” Mr Kamski glances at the instructions and begins to attach some of the components together. “Japan uses several of them as sentinels now, on the coasts.”

“Are they alive too?” Ronan wonders as he starts to put together the frame of the mecha. 

“The Gundams? No. The A.I. handlers? Oh I’m positive but that’s not a conversation the government wants to have publicly.” The man smirks, handing him a connected module. “I always wanted to pilot one of these mecha. Might have to try my hand at making one to scale.”

“You have the resources.” Ronan points out. “They could be cool CyberLife Tower sentinels.”

“That is an _excellent_ suggestion.” Mr Kamski muses with a grin. 

“And they’d have to require both an android and a human pilot, so it’s about looking out for each other and being friends.” He continues, not looking at Mr Kamski so he can concentrate on assembling a rather tricky part of its foot. 

“That’s very insightful, Ronan.” The human hums thoughtfully, handing him another completed module. “A two-pilot system forces both parties to work together to ensure they accomplish their mission.”

“Yes.” He nods, holding out his completed components so Mr Kamski can attach his own completed ones. “Like how we’re building this model.”

“Indeed.” Chuckling, Mr Kamski nods approvingly in return. 

They’re carefully applying the decals when Ms Chloe returns. She’s frowning heavily in that way grown-ups frown when things aren’t going well, but she brightens up when she sees them.

“How are my two favourite boys?” She threads her fingers into his hair, gently scritching his scalp and he giggles at the sensation.

“We have almost completed building Amuro Ray’s Gundam.” Ronan informs her and Ms Chloe gasps in delight. 

“Is that so? Well, that’s a testament to your steady hands and keen eyes, Ronan.”

“Mr Kamski and I work well together.” He says and Mr Kamski chuckles beside him. 

“That we do.” Glancing up at Chloe, he guides Ronan’s hands away from the model. “Now that she’s back would you like to go and explore the Tower with her?”

“I’d like that very much.” He smiles shyly, slipping his hand into Ms Chloe’s offered palm. “Thank you for letting me help you with your project, Mr Kamski.”

“I may have to call on you again, Ronan.” The man grins. “We do indeed make for a great team.”

They stand in the elevator, and Ellie begins to take them to sub-level forty-one which Ronan remembers passing by on his way down to sub-level fifty which he belatedly realises is not in the directory. 

“How come there isn’t a sub-level fifty on this directory?” He asks Ms Chloe who blinks down at him in surprise. 

“Because sub-level fifty can only be accessed by Eli and I.” A pause. “Did you go there, Ronan?”

“I-I-” he feels his cheeks heat with shame, “I asked Ellie to take me to see Mr Kamski and they took me down to sub-level fifty.”

“Ellie?”

“The elevator. They didn’t have a name so I gave them a name.”

“Ellie the elevator.” Ms Chloe laughs softly, before her expression turns into one of concern. “What did you see on sub-level fifty?”

“Um, n-not a lot. There was lots of machinery, and Mr Kamski was standing in front of a very big android but I didn’t really see it because he saw me and quickly carried me back to the elevator did I do something wrong?” It all comes out in a big rush and he hopes Ms Chloe isn’t upset because he’d never ever want to make her upset.

“Oh little dove, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She sighs fondly, crouching to wrap him in a tight embrace. “I’m just worried- it’s a big level with lots of dangerous machinery, I just didn’t want you hurting yourself.”

“Mr Kamski said he was making an android that couldn’t be made elsewhere.” Ronan frowns. “Is it a special android?”

“Oh _very_.” Ms Chloe says solemnly. “Now, do you know what sub-level forty-one used to be?”

He knows this one, he’s seen it in Connor’s memories somehow. “Manufacturing?”

“That’s right.” The elevator doors open and Chloe ushers him out onto a level that looks nothing like a manufacturing space. “We converted floors sub forty-one to forty-three into an android medical facility, and the research and development floors following into an android medical research facility.” The staff around them are all wearing long white lab coats, and there’s a, equal mix of androids and humans. “We work very closely with Jericho’s MedBay to ensure we provide androids with good medical care. A lot of them were hurt before, during and even after the revolution.”

“But,” Ronan wrings his hands anxiously, “it’s getting better now isn’t it? Humans and androids are becoming better friends?”

“I think so, love.” Ms Chloe smiles softly, resting her hand atop his head. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

* * *

Hank’s not sure how the CEO of CyberLife managed to keep a kid entertained for an entire day, but when he’s waved through the security check and pulls up at the entrance to the giant, looming Tower there’s Chloe and Ronan. The kid looks ready to fall asleep standing up, blinking slowly and sleepily up at him when he strides over. 

“Good day?”

“Very good day, Lieutenant.” Chloe giggles, ruffling Ronan’s hair. “My very clever little helper.”

“Alright kiddo, home time.” The announcement makes the boy simply hold his arms up, and Hank huffs a laugh as he bends and scoops him up, pausing to accept the bag Chloe hands over. “Come on sleepyhead.”

Connor shifts to the back seat, helping Hank settle Ronan and buckle his seatbelt. Yawning, Ronan snuggles against Connor’s side and closes his eyes, fast asleep moments later.

“Kid must’ve had a big day.”

“A big day in a very big tower.” Connor quips with a smile, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulders and tucking him close. 

Android or not, Ronan is still a kid and kids think they don’t need as much rest as they do. They get home, he wakes him for dinner and then they’re on the couch watching a baseball game and Ronan’s adamant he can stay up to finish it. Hank’s had this conversation many times- different kid maybe, but the same conversation.

“Well alright Ronan, I’ll stay up if you stay up.”

“I want to see who wins!” Ronan huffs stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. The effect is lost a moment later when Ronan leans over and melts against his side. This is the beginning of the end, Hank knows. He pretends to yawn a big wide yawn before draping an arm around him. Ronan scoots a little closer, head resting on his chest. After a minute, Hank begins to gently rub his back and there it is, scarcely five minutes later: a sleeping child. He catches Connor’s gaze, a soft, affectionate expression on his face as he looks at his brother.

“Come on.” He tips his head. “Carry your brother to bed so I can move.”

“Does that trick always work?” Connor asks, keeping his voice low as he gathers Ronan into his arms. The kid fusses briefly before settling with his cheek mushed to his shoulder. 

“Every time.” Hank chuckles, waving him off. “I’ll let Sumo out. You get him changed and tucked in.”

“Got it.”

After Sumo’s settled onto his bed, blanket draped over him, Hank goes to check on the boys. Connor rarely sleeps regular human hours so Hank is used to saying goodnight when the android is sitting up in bed, LED blinking yellow as he does whatever it is androids do. Hank likes to think he’s streaming a show or chatting with his friends or whatever. Not tonight though, tonight Connor is lying atop the covers beside his brother, the child fast asleep squeezing the baby penguin plush Connor had chosen at the aquarium. He’s watching him, looking at him with the same awed expression from yesterday as if he can’t believe he’s real. 

“I wasn’t so sure,” he begins, voice soft as he catches his eyes, “when I was a new deviant and you offered me a place in your home, in your life. I wasn’t sure I’d know how to love you, or anyone for that matter, like family. I knew the word. I wanted to experience it so desperately but I just didn’t know if that was something I was capable of feeling or doing. I wasn’t sure if CyberLife programmed me to be completely devoid of that ability.” 

“But you can.” Hank points out with a smile, leaning against the doorway to soak up the sight of Connor ever so gently brushing Ronan’s hair away from his sleeping face. “And you do.”

“Yeah.” Connor’s voice is a little damp as he traces the slope of Ronan’s little nose. “I feel so protective of him. Like I want to hold him and keep him away from anything that would harm him. Like I’d do anything to keep him safe.”

“You’re his big brother, Connor.” He points out with a chuckle. “That’s what you’re meant to be feeling.”

“I mean I do, normally. Just even moreso now he’s...so small.” Connor whispers stroking his cheek with the back of his fingers. “I guess it makes me realise how vulnerable Ronan really feels, but when he’s not like this it’s not so easy to receive the affection he wants. The affection he deserves.”

“CyberLife did their best to make him look like a mean bastard but we know better.” Hank reminds him with a stern look. “And it’s up to us to give him what he needs.”

The android doesn’t look at him, focusing instead on carefully pressing a kiss to the crown of Ronan’s head like sealing a promise. 

The call beats his alarm by three minutes, trilling incessantly and wriggling on the bedside table.

“Anderson.” He grunts, eyes still welded shut.

“Lieutenant Anderson, you are required at the precinct for an urgent meeting regarding a case that has unfolded last night.” 

“Fowler knows I’ve got to drop Ronan off.”

“Jericho representative Simon will be in attendance, as will Markus Manfred.” 

“Ah shit, that bad?”

“That bad, Lieutenant. Connor has been notified as well. Please make your way to the precinct as soon as possible.”

“Coming coming. Thanks Steph.” Hank hangs up, rubbing his eyes with a groan. When he stumbles over to Connor’s room after some semblance of a bathroom routine he finds the older brother hastily dressing a very sleepy younger one.

“Got the message?”

“Markus contacted me directly.” Connor’s expression is apologetic as he helps Ronan maneuvre sleep-heavy limbs into a jumper. “Scene was investigated by Detectives Reed and Chen around midnight and what was seemingly a straightforward case has escalated sharply and will now require Jericho’s involvement.”

“Ugh.” Hank shuffles into the room, grabbing Ronan’s bag and stuffing another change of clothes into it. “Looks like you’re gonna have to come with us kiddo and chill at the precinct for a bit. Then Simon and Markus can take you home with them.”

“Has something bad happened?” Stifling a yawn, Ronan looks up at him with barely awake curiosity. 

“Yeah. We don’t know what, but they’re going to tell us at the precinct.” Hank smoothes down his bedhead. “We’ll need you to sit tight for a little while, can you do that for us?”

“Yes Hank.” Ronan nods obediently, and Hank sighs, leaning down to smudge a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Atta boy. Alright, everyone in the car.”

* * *

The day is meant to start like this: his internal alarm will wake him at seven and he will spend the next half hour slowly, languidly attempting to both rouse Markus and make it out of bed. There will be several attempts, of course, and bribery will involve both parties and some sort of compromise reached. There will be a shower, there may be mischief and then they’ll head to the kitchen to begin breakfast. At ten another alarm will go off for Carl’s morning medication which will signal the official start of the day’s proceedings. But between the seven a.m. alarm and the ten a.m. alarm, there will be a small window of time in which time won’t feel real at all and the world will be just Markus and his arms and his mouth and the ocean of his love Simon willingly drowns himself in. 

What actually happens is this: right before his seven a.m. alarm, he receives a call from the DPD’s secure communication line, and beside him Markus sits bolt upright as he receives what Simon surmises to be a call of a similar nature.

“Simon PL600, as the Jericho liaison the DPD are notifying you of an urgent development to a case now involving the deaths of several androids. Captain Jeffrey Fowler has called a meeting and as the liaison you must be in attendance.”

“Of course.” It doesn’t feel real, and Simon can feel the stress rising in his throat as the chance of a soft, slow, mellow morning slips out of his grasp. “I’ll be there right away.”

“Thank you, I will notify Connor directly.” Markus ends his call and the look he gives Simon isn’t the look they normally share on mornings, it’s the look of the leader of their kind. “We are needed.”

“I know.” The longing for blissful ignorance lasts but a fleeting moment before it’s overtaken by guilt for even daring to think such things, and Simon banishes both away with a physical shake of his head. “We were supposed to have Ronan over at breakfast time though I guess we’ll just meet up with the Andersons at the precinct.”

“I’m-” Markus presses his lips into a tight line. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to have the half day off like we planned. I think I’ll, no, _we’ll_ both be needed for this case.”

“One step at a time.” Simon reminds him, lightly resting his hand on his arm as he leans over to kiss him. “Let’s find out what’s happening before we make adjustments to our schedule.”

The wonders of a functioning, cutting edge thermal regulator, Simon muses as they leave the house after leaving Leo and Carl a quick message explaining their departure for when they wake. The morning chill is still crisp and sharp but no longer as debilitating as it once was to Simon. They clamber into the taxi and Markus looks out the window, handsome face marred with a thoughtful frown. Inching his hand across, Simon threads their fingers together as if to anchor Markus to him. It works, and Markus’ expression softens as he lifts their twined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Simon’s knuckles.

“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.” Markus says resolutely, determination in his eyes and steel in his spine. Simon adores him all the more for it.

“We will, love.”

He is no stranger to central station, but there’s something different in the air this morning. Stephanie’s expression is strained through her lovely smile as she waves them in and though he’s used to a few stares here and there, it’s something else entirely to have everyone darting them somewhat pitying, chastised glances. It’s bad, whatever it is that happened last night is bad enough the humans are feeling sorry for their presence. 

Ronan is sitting by himself at his father’s desk, still a little sleepy though he brightens when he spots them.

“Good morning Simon, good morning Markus.” He greets politely, and Simon slows his stride just long enough to lean over the desk to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Hello darling. We’ll be with you as soon as the meeting’s over.” 

“Okay.” It’s the tone children use when they’re trying to be brave, and Simon spares him a lingering glance as Markus guides him to the secure meeting room. No doubt Lieutenant Anderson’s morning would have been much like theirs- interrupted and hurried and harried. Certainly not the slow, soft, mellow morning they’d all been expecting, with Ronan being dropped off in time for family breakfast before Simon and Markus would embark on the day’s activities they’d carefully, lovingly planned the day prior. 

Entering the room, Captain Fowler nods at their arrival and an officer to the side closes the door behind them and somehow it seems like their fates are being sealed along with all those within.

Simon takes a moment to steady himself, to square his shoulders and hold his chin high. This is his duty and he will not fail it, nor their people.

* * *

“It’s my favourite flavour.” Ms Stephanie explains as she hands him a Tearium pouch. “It tastes like mango juice.”

“It’s sweet, I like it.” Ronan smiles after taking a sip, and Ms Stephanie giggles as she rubs his cheek with her thumb. 

“I’m glad. Will you be alright to sit here at your father’s desk while they have their big important meeting?”

“Am I alright to um, to explore a little bit? I’ll stay on the premises I promise!” He adds hastily, seeing the flicker of apprehension flash across her face.

“So long as you don’t leave the precinct, you can explore.” She concedes with a nod. “I’ll be at the front desk but if you need me, you can always call.” She taps his temple with one hand and her own LED with the other. “I’ll be there right away.”

“Yes Ms Stephanie, thank you.” He says politely, watching as she takes her leave. The Tearium is nice and sweet though a little cold for his liking at this time of the morning. Still, he’s not one to turn away such a thoughtful offering nor skip breakfast seeing as he wasn’t able to eat or drink anything before they left home. Neither had Hank or Connor, which causes Ronan to frown. He hopes the meeting won’t be too long, he knows their dad likes to have a big morning coffee with his breakfast. 

With permission granted to explore, Ronan secures his hold on the juice as he carefully slips off the chair and begins to wander around. There aren’t too many other officers around, and he guesses it’s because they’re all at the big important meeting with Hank and Connor and Simon and Markus. He must have been here before because he knows where the break room is, he knows the holding cells and the bathroom and the way down to Evidence and Archives. He can’t quite remember when but it must have been recently. 

There’s a long corridor, though, which he has no recollection of ever exploring so that’s where he heads. It leads to a security entrance but that’s not what he notices first- what he notices first on the other side of the glass sliding door is a German Shepherd dog nosing a tennis ball back and forth along the stretch of corridor. Ronan gasps, and the sound causes the canine to perk up, trotting to the door and sitting attentively in front of him. Looking up, he eyes the security panel. Perhaps it’s like the CyberLife Tower security keys? Special keys for special Andersons.

“Um-” no, perhaps it isn’t voice activated, it hasn’t asked him for a key. Standing on tiptoe, Ronan presses his palm to the panel and a moment later the door hisses open. “Hello!” He laughs as the dog eagerly sniffs him, and he takes care to hold the Tearium pouch out of reach, using his other hand to pat its soft fur. “What’s your name?” Feeling around its neck, he locates a collar and bends to peek at the tag. “Rosie! Hello Rosie, I’m Ronan!” At the sound of her name, she perks visibly, tail wagging. “Shall we play?” Picking up the tennis ball, he throws it and watches her dart after it in a flash, claws skittering on the floor as she retrieves the ball and drops it at his feet. He throws it again, before sipping at his drink because he has to keep his fluids up given he missed breakfast earlier. The mango juice is such a pleasant taste and Rosie is such a pleasant dog and Ronan decides this is a most wondrous way to pass the time. 

“Aw, Boss brought Rosie today!” Someone laughs, and Ronan looks over his shoulder as a man enters through the security door, patting his thighs to gain the dog’s attention. Rosie seemingly recognises him, bounding over to receive affectionate pats. “Hey kid, you lost? I don’t recognise you. You know this is the SWAT Unit 32 building, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m- I’m from the precinct. I saw Rosie and wanted to play with her.” Ronan explains, having to look up quite a lot because the man is very tall.

“Yeah? Who’s your mom or dad there?”

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson is my dad.” Ronan declares proudly with a big smile. The man frowns.

“Anderson? Crazy drunk geezer with the tin cans pretending to be real?” The man scoffs, and Ronan recoils slightly.

“Hank isn’t crazy or drunk! He’s- he’s my dad and he’s very good at it!” 

“Didn’t his kid die? He has two android delusions now.” The expression on his face is akin to someone who stepped in something unpleasant, and Ronan decides he very strongly hates that very much.

“I am an android, and my brother Connor is an android as well and we are not delusions! We are his sons and he loves us very much and we love him even more!” He shouts, feeling both angry and upset, and something changes on the man’s face like a switch being flipped. He looks angry and _disgusted_ and he grabs Ronan by the front of his jumper, lifting him off his feet.

“Oh fuck did he snap? Swap one of them for a small kid to pretend his other one didn’t die? That’s so fucked up.” He laughs but it isn’t a nice laugh, it’s a mean one and no sooner does he place Ronan back on his feet, Ronan finds himself falling backwards as the man shoves him violently. Reflexively, he grips the pouch too hard and blue liquid explodes across his front, seeping through his jumper. The tears well up hot and fast in his eyes and he feels awful and sticky and he wants his dad, he wants his brother, he wants Simon! Crying, Ronan rubs his eyes, trying desperately to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks. Rosie jumps in front of him, barking loudly at the man, body language suddenly hostile as she places herself between them.

“Whoa girl, it’s me! Hey, it’s me!”

“What fuck is going on out here?!” There’s a new voice somewhere down the corridor, rapidly approaching, but Ronan can’t see them through his tears. “You’re in the habit of picking on kids now Gillespie is that it?”

“That’s not a kid, it’s a fucking android.” The man spits, and he can feel the anger from the other man even without seeing him.

“That’s a kid _and_ an android, they’re not mutually exclusive.” A hand gently clasps his shoulder. “You’re alright kid, come on, up we go.” He’s lifted up into his arms, and Ronan latches around his neck, burying his face in his shoulder. A hand rubs soothing circles on his back. “Hey now, shhh you’re alright. That was a very mean thing Gillespie did to you, and I’m sorry. He’s going to leave right now, isn’t he?” His voice hardens into something commanding.

“Boss, I-”

“Aren’t you, Gillespie?” Beside him Rosie growls again, barking once before she’s quietened. 

“Yessir.” A mumbled reply before the footsteps recede.

“He’s gone now. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes hm? I’ve got a spare shirt in my office.” The man’s voice is very kind, and his touch is very warm and Ronan manages a nod in agreement. “My name is David, what’s yours?”

“Ronan Anderson.”

“Anderson?” A confused pause. “As in Lieutenant Anderson’s son? Thought you were uh, bigger?”

“I-I’m only six, sir, I-I’m not sure how big I should be.” Ronan leans back, the last of his tears rubbed away so he can see the man’s face. David chuckles softly, shaking his head.

“Well in that case you’re perfectly six year-old sized.” They enter an office, and David sits him on his desk before bending to grab a duffle bag in the corner. “What are you doing over in our building, Ronan?”

“Dad has a big important meeting with Connor and Simon and Markus and lots of other grownups.” Ronan explains, squirming at the unpleasant sensation of wet clothing against his chest. “They got a call this morning and we all had to rush here even before we had breakfast.”

“I’m guessing you’re wearing your late breakfast now huh? Sorry about that.” David says and he means it too, because his eyes are honest as he hands him a plain worn grey shirt. “You’re going to swim in this but it’ll be a lot better than wet clothes.” He helps him change, and yes he’s right because it does feel a lot better than wet clothes.

“Thank you sir.” He sniffles, lifting his arms when David eases his jacket over him too. “I’m sorry for being in your building.”

“That’s alright, Rosie seems to like you very much, isn’t that right Rosie?” He addresses the German Shepherd sitting patiently at his feet. Her ears prick up and her tail wags at the mention of her name. “She was getting a bit bored, so you came at just the right time.”

“She’s very soft and friendly.” Ronan smiles, holding out a hand to her and giggling when she licks it. “I like her very much too.”

“Love of my life.” David declares with a laugh. “She wasn’t going to cut it in the K9 unit so I adopted her instead. Eighteen months and a cheeky devil but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Dad has a Saint Bernard named Sumo. He’s getting old but he’s so friendly and protective and we love him so much.” Ronan smiles, thinking of how Sumo jumped on the end of Connor’s bed last night and slept there ‘to keep the nightmares away’ as Hank had said. 

“Fellow dog person. I can respect that.” David chuckles, tousling his hair. “You want to go out and keep Rosie company while I do some boring grownup paperwork?”

“Yes please!” He gasps, and David gently sets him back on his feet before opening his drawer and fetching another tennis ball. Tossing it to him, Ronan barely has time to correct his grip on the ball before Rosie is right under his nose, front paws tip-tapping impatiently, excitedly as she waits for him to throw it. David grins, taking a seat at his desk and putting on a pair of glasses to resume his paperwork. He tips his head in the direction of the door.

“Alright kid, have at you.” 

* * *

Okay so the case definitely warranted the early wakeup call. They trudge out of the meeting room, heads full and hearts heavy, and Hank knows they’ve got one hell of a situation on their hands with the added stress of Jericho’s involvement meaning the media will be chomping at the bit to dissect and exaggerate whatever miniscule reactions they can get out of either party. It’s a massive shitshow waiting to happen.

After breakfast, Hank decides, because he’s running on fumes, not a drop of coffee nor a crumb of toast in his stomach. Beside him Connor looks just as stressed, struggling just as much while running on a similarly empty tank. Breakfast first, with Ronan, and then Simon and Markus can take him home with them, and he and Connor will focus on this nightmare of a case. 

They enter the bullpen and the chair once occupied by his temporarily small son is empty. Huh. He looks around, catching Connor doing the same.

“Err...Has anyone seen Ronan?” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand just like that, January is over YIKES!!! Apologies for the delay, I sort of tripped and fell into the Bridgerton fandom in the meantime but I also didn't want to rush this while I worked on that other project. I hope you enjoy this Sofd chapter :)!

[ _Ronan, are you alright?_ ] Connor’s voice echoes in his mind and Ronan pauses, hand poised to toss the tennis ball as Rosie tip-taps impatiently in front of him.

‘Yes Connor, I am quite alright,’ he answers politely before lobbing the ball down the hallway, smiling as Rosie immediately bolts after it. 

[ _We’re finished with our meeting now. Where are you?_ ] 

‘I am in the SWAT Unit 32 building,’ he recites, remembering the words of that big nasty man. ‘I am playing with Rosie. She is a German Shepherd who belongs to a boss named David.’ There is just enough time between Connor’s reply for Rosie to drop the ball at his feet, tippy-tapping excitedly again. 

[ _As in, Captain David Allen?_ ] There’s something about the way Connor says that name- something slow and hesitant. 

‘I think so?’ Ronan piffs the ball again, giggling as Rosie scrambles down the hallway. ‘He’s very nice and he let me wear his spare shirt after the bad man pushed me over and I spilled my mango tearium on it.’

[ _What?_ ] The slow hesitation morphs into disbelief. [ _Can you come back to the main precinct? Shall I come fetch you?_ ]

‘It’s alright!’ Ronan says hastily, wishing to prove himself capable. ‘I can come back myself!’

“Come on Rosie.” He says aloud, picking up the ball and holding onto it this time so the dog follows. He returns to the office, and David looks up from his paperwork. “Um- Captain-” he uses the title Connor used, and the man seems responsive to it. “Connor said the meeting is over, so it’s best I return to the main precinct.”

“Alright,” David nods, removing his glasses as he stands up and rounds the desk. Grabbing his stained shirt in one hand, he offers the other to Ronan. “Let’s go.” 

They leave, and Rosie trots beside her owner faithfully, reminding Ronan of their morning walks with Sumo. Connor and Hank are waiting by their desks, and Ronan gives them a wave.

“Thank you for um, for your shirt. And letting me play with Rosie,” Ronan says politely, and David offers him a gentle smile, letting go of his hand to tousle his hair.

“That’s alright Ronan. Rosie was very glad to have a playmate, weren’t you girl?” He asks the dog who chuffs in reply. 

“Captain Allen,” Connor addresses with a nod. 

“Detective Anderson,” David nods. “I suppose we can consider this a re-introduction, given we’re not the same people who met last August. I was rather dismissive of you, and for that I apologise.”

“Your priority was the life of Emma Phillips, and the safety of your team,” Connor says slowly, hesitantly. “I understand that, now I am no longer bound by CyberLife’s programming. On that night my priority was to accomplish my mission by any means necessary; your team, the auxiliary units, the police officers and Daniel himself were meaningless. I know the difference now. I know by the time I arrived you’d already lost two men, and for that I am sorry.” 

People are looking at the two of them, Ronan can see the other officers pausing in that way Hank does when he’s saying he’s working but he’s really not. He looks up at David, who has a worried expression on his face.

“I thank whatever twist of fate that landed the Jericho raid into the hands of the FBI SWAT team and not mine,” David shakes his head. “Knowing what I know now- that androids are alive, I don’t think I could ever live with myself if it had been me leading my team on that raid, slaughtering all those innocent people.”

“That you’ve already applied for retroactive recognition for all the auxiliary units that fell in the line of duty under your leadership is far more than what would ever cross the mind of Richard Perkins.” Markus says, coming to stand beside Connor. “Our people recognise your efforts, Captain Allen.”

“It’s the least I could do,” he says, and he means it because his face is honest. “It’s a start, and I intend to integrate androids into my Unit someday.”

“Best we get going, Captain,” Simon holds out his hand, and David gives him Ronan’s stained shirt. “I’ll have both the shirts washed, and yours returned to you accordingly.” 

“You ready to go kiddo?” Hank rubs his back warmly. “Spend a day with the Manfreds?”

“Yes please!” Ronan takes a moment to wave to Rosie and David as they turn back to the hallway, before holding onto Hank’s hand. “And you and Connor will work on this big important case?”

“Yeah,” Hank sighs tiredly. “After I get some fuel into me- I’m starving.”

“Breakfast, then, at our place?” Simon offers. “Well, brunch now really.”

“I won’t say no to your cooking, Simon,” he grins as he makes a shooing motion. “Alright alright let’s get going before I pass out. Haven’t had a drop of coffee yet and I’m reaching my limits of polite interaction.”

He loves the Manfred Manor. It’s big and beautiful and looks so warm and inviting. And Simon lives there, of course. Hank parks the car and they all get out to walk up the driveway to go inside. The security welcomes them in, and immediately Ronan can smell butter and cinnamon.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know when you guys would get back so I started on some breakfast for dad and I.” Leo pokes his head out from the kitchen as they’re all hanging up their coats. “Hey little man,” he grins. “Making a fashion statement with the grey jersey dress?”

“It belongs to David.” Ronan pulls at the long hem. “There was um, a man who pushed me over and I spilled my juice all over my shirt. David told the man off and let me borrow his shirt since mine got wet.”

“And it’s best I put that in the wash so we can return it to Captain Allen later and you can wear something that fits,” Simon interjects kindly, a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’ll do it, I’ve got his bag here,” Hank holds up his backpack. “I’ll bring the shirts out after.”

“I’ll go help Leo with breakfast,” Markus gestures. “Just get yourselves settled in the dining when you’re ready.”

“I’ll show you to the bathroom, then,” Simon motions for them to follow. Everything in the Manor seems to loom over him, with great big splashes of colour standing out from the warm almost golden glow of the polished wood. It’s so very different from Hank’s home, where the warmth doesn’t seem to come from the colours at all, but more like a feeling soaked up in everything around him. 

When they reach the bathroom, Simon closes the door, and Hank helps him change into a spare shirt from his bag. It fits him much better, though he reasons that Captain Allen’s shirt felt somehow a lot softer, the fabric so worn to the point it held none of the stiffness of new clothing. By the time they hand over the shirts and Simon gets the washing going, Markus and Leo are laying out breakfast just as Carl wheels himself in from the studio. 

“Ah, a full table today I see,” he chuckles as he looks around at their faces. “Good morning Anderson family.”

“Good morning sir,” Ronan pipes up. “Thank you for your hospitality!”

“That’s quite alright Ronan,” Carl smiles, reaching to pat his hand. “Always nice to have more voices to fill all this space. I hear Simon and Markus have quite the day planned for you.”

“It-” Markus purses his lips briefly, “it’ll have to be altered slightly, due to this case.”

“Case?” He echoes with a frown. “And here I thought this was just a lovely extended visit as you dropped little Ronan off to spend the day with us.”

“Sadly not,” Hank sighs before taking a big gulp from his mug. “DPD’s asked for Jericho’s help with a real nasty case.”

“As the Jericho liaison I’ll need to be working closely with Connor, and that means Markus will need to be at Jericho to oversee proceedings there,” Simon explains, expression apologetic. “I should be able to come back in the early afternoon.” Ronan tips up his chin.

“I-it’s alright! I can be very quiet and look after myself until then! There’s lots of books here for me to read and-and I can draw pictures! It’s okay!” He tries to look as big and brave as his brother, hoping they will believe him because he certainly doesn’t want to be a bother.

“Oh, hey I have an idea,” Leo gestures with his fork. “Ronan can come be my little helper. I have that Vogue shoot, and it’d be no problem having you there with me buddy. I’m in need of a photographer’s assistant- you think you’d be up for the job?”

“Yeah!”

Actually, Ronan isn’t quite sure what that entails because it sounds Very Important and he doesn’t have any experience in the industry but he reasons that if lovely Ms Chloe can rely on him, then so can Leo. 

“This is what my mom used to do,” Leo explains as the two of them sit in a taxi after parting ways with everyone once breakfast was finished. “When I was too young to go to school, or if it was when she couldn’t get a babysitter she’d take me to her fashion shoots and fittings. I loved it so much.”

“What did you do?” 

“All sorts of stuff. Lots of little things like fetching lenses or makeup brushes or accessories. I’d carry coffee cups and props, or go help adjust lighting,” Leo shrugs, expression cheerful. “Being in that atmosphere really made me want to be a photographer.”

He’s never been in a photography studio before and it mustn’t be often that they see a child because everyone in the room looks at him in surprise. It’s different from the confused, somewhat hostile stares of the CyberLife staff, no it reminds him of the dancers back at Ballet Detroit.

“Aww Leo who’s this cutiepie?” someone gasps, giving him a big smile as he trails Leo to one of the equipment tables.

“This little guy is Ronan, my helper for the shoot.” Leo ruffles his hair. “I’m minding him for a bit while his dad and big brother are at work.”

“I-I’ll be very helpful!” Ronan declares, nodding enthusiastically. They laugh, poking his cheek.

“Then let’s get started!”

Being a photographer’s helper is a Big Job that’s made of lots of little jobs, actually, which Ronan finds a lot of fun. He’s small, so he can crawl between set pieces and to change props or move something just a smidge to the left. He can pass models different accessories or very discreetly hold up a part of the hem to make it look like there’s a light breeze. There’s equal parts standing around and flurries of activity so Ronan never finds himself bored for long stretches of time. Leo is very interesting to watch as he works, because he gives directions that are less like commands and more like suggestions to guide the models into different poses. Having only his father’s workplace, and CyberLife to compare it to, it’s fascinating for Ronan to watch. Again, it reminds him of the ballet studio and the way the ballet mistress uses imaginative comparisons to guide their movements, their displays of emotions. 

“What do you think?” Leo crouches to show him the screen on the back of the camera as they take a break, Ronan sipping on a thirium pouch. He flicks through the most recent round of shots.

“It’s very pretty, I like how it looks like everything is moving!” Ronan gasps, and Leo chuckles.

“And that’s thanks to you, buddy! Maybe we won’t choose this one for the magazine but how about we show your dad huh?” The shot has Ronan partly in view behind the model, tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as he throws the long billowing hem of the gown up in the air. “You’re a pro!”

The models change outfits several times, and Ronan marvels at the different textures of the different fabrics used, admiring the tiny stitches and the delicate embroidery that must take hundreds of collective hours of labour. One of the models tucks a flower pin in his hair ‘for safekeeping’ and he decides he likes it very much. 

He hardly realises how much time has passed until the models change again but this time they come out of the room in ordinary clothes. 

“Thanks for all your hard work, everyone!” Leo raises his voice to be heard over the light hum of easy conversation as people pack up their gear. Ronan dutifully returns the hairpin to the stylist who pinches his cheek lightly. 

“You’re a wonderful assistant, I hope Leo keeps you around hm?” 

“I’ll be very glad to help again.” Ronan nods cheerily, waving goodbye as they take their leave, large suitcase in tow.

“Hey buddy, thanks for being such a trooper.” Leo hefts his camera bag onto his back before offering him his hand. “Let’s head back home and see if Simon and Markus are back too.”

He tucks at Leo’s side in the taxi, and Leo shows him more photos from the shoot during the ride home. When Leo scrolls through them fast enough it’s almost like watching a movie with the frame rate slowed down. Eventually he settles on his favourite image, one where the model is poised almost as if in flight with her arms thrown back like wings and her dress streaming behind her. He had helped throw her dress up as high as he could for this one, and maybe that’s also why it’s his favourite. In that moment he didn’t know how it could look elegant given all the awkward movements it took to stage such a shot, but seeing it now makes him realise sometimes achievements must be admired as a complete package and not scrutinised for all its parts. 

When they arrive home, Simon greets him by immediately picking him up off the ground and cuddling him tightly. It’s his favourite feeling in the world, he decides; being held is the best way to be. 

“Markus is waiting for you in the studio.” Simon bumps their noses together. “I have to duck out for a short while to meet with your brother again but I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Markus and Leo will look after you until then, hm?”

“Okay Simon.” Ronan nods shly, running his fingers through Simon’s soft blond hair. He carries him to the studio, Leo breaking away to retreat to the sunroom to do some editing. The far end has been set up with a huge canvas, and a large blue tarp has been spread out on the ground.

“Hi Ronan,” Markus greets with a big smile as Simon gently deposits him back on his feet. “My dad’s having a nap, so I was thinking we could paint some manta rays together this afternoon?”

“I love manta rays!” Ronan exclaims, nearly bouncing on the spot with excitement. “They’re my very favourite!”

“I’ll see you both soon, alright?” Simon leans over to kiss Markus, before bending to press his lips to Ronan’s forehead. “You two have fun.”

“We will!” He vows, accepting an art smock from Markus. “And then you can see our painting!”

Simon leaves, and Markus gives him an art smock, helping him pull it over his head and arms. 

“Now, before we paint, I want you to close your eyes,” Markus instructs, hands coming to rest gently on his shoulders. Ronan does as he’s bid, closing his eyes and allowing Markus to turn him slightly so he’s standing square in front of the canvas. “I want you to imagine you’re in the middle of the ocean, standing on the ocean floor. Can you feel it? The stillness that isn’t still at all, because the water itself is alive. It breathes and pulses all around you. The sun comes through and spills light like ink, dissipating into the ocean and illuminating everything it touches. Now, I want you to look up just as a school of manta rays fly over you like a flock of birds.”

He sees it, somehow, even though he’s not in the middle of the ocean, standing on the ocean floor. “Look, Ronan, do you see them?”

Opening his eyes, he sees them, he sees them fly overhead with their great big wingspans and there’s a rush, a tightness in his chest so full it feels like he’s going to burst. Markus grins, pressing a palette into his hand and a brush into his other.

“Now, let’s paint what you saw.”

He’s not quite sure how it happened, but somehow the blank white canvas spanning nearly an entire wall is now an ocean with a school of manta rays gliding across the space. He’s sitting on Markus’ shoulders, standing at the entrance of the studio to admire their work.

“Whoa…”

“Yeah, whoa!” Leo pipes up, coming to stand beside them. “Holy sh-shhh sugar, that’s beautiful!”

“We painted that…” Ronan says in a hushed voice. 

“Yes, we sure did,” Markus grins up at him. “You’ve got the makings of an artist in you, Ronan.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Leo shakes his head. “He’s a photographer’s assistant for sure.”

“I can be both!” He protests with a pout, making the other two laugh.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right,” Markus nods. 

“And he absolutely needs a bath.” A voice pipes up behind them, a voice Ronan knows and loves.

“Simon!” He giggles as Simon tickles his sides before lifting him from Markus’ shoulders and back into his arms. “Look at our ocean!”

“What a masterpiece!” Simon explains, bumping their noses together. “You boys have been very busy, and somehow even with the smock you’ve managed to get paint all over you. Time for a bath, hm?”

“Alright,” he nods in agreement, wrapping his arms around Simon’s neck. He turns back to look at Markus. “Thank you for painting with me, I had a lot of fun.”

“You’re very welcome, Ronan,” Markus smiles. “I really enjoyed it too. I don’t get to paint as often as I’d like, so this has been extra special.” 

This is the second time today he’s been in the bathroom, but this time he gets a proper look at it. It’s big and airy, with a large bathtub set against bay windows. Simon leans in and turns on the taps, before guiding him to a large cabinet filled with bath bombs, lifting him up so he can choose one. Most are round, but some are shaped like objects and Ronan reaches out and plucks one shaped like a little blue robot.

“A perfect choice,” Simon commends, setting him back down. “Now let’s get you out of those clothes. The smock protected your jumper but I’m afraid you’ll need new trousers! Luckily your dad packed everything you need in your bag.”

“He’s a very good dad,” Ronan says solemnly, and Simon chuckles, tapping his nose. 

“I’m sure he is.”

They wait until there’s enough water for him to sit in and have it reach his chest before Simon lets him put the little robot into the water. It fizzes immediately and starts to crumble, turning the water blue and filling his nose with the scent of heady lavender. Simon’s touch is gentle as he sponges away the paint and works shampoo into his hair. Ronan feels himself growing sleepy, the hot water melting everything away. The rush of the day fades into a distant memory, and Ronan’s chest seems to tighten. 

“When I grow up, will it be easier?”

“Hm?” Simon tips his head curiously, brushing his wet hair away from his face.”Will what be easier, sweetheart?”

“Dealing with your feelings,” he presses a hand over his secondary heart. “I feel like there’s too many of them, and I don’t know where to put them.”

“Oh, my darling,” Simon sighs affectionately. 

“Sometimes I feel like my whole body is too small for all the sad I feel,” Ronan confesses, tears welling up in his eyes. “Sometimes it’s like I’m so full of it, it will spill out if I open my mouth.”

“You have to put it into other things, darling,” Simon coaxes, pressing a kiss to his brow. “You learn to channel it, and turn it into other things. Markus puts all his feelings into his paintings. Leo puts it all into his photographs. And you, dear love, you put it into your ballet. That’s what it’s for, it’s just a medium for you to feel your emotions. That’s what the Arts are, sweetheart; the Arts are an extension of our soul.”

“What do you do, Simon?” He wipes at his eyes clumsily, trying to smudge away the tears.

“I take it and I make it into the food I cook. I put my all into everything I do, for everyone I love,” he brushes the back of his fingers against Ronan’s cheek. “That’s how I stop the sadness from spilling out: I turn it into love.”

“Is some sadness left, though?” 

“Yes, darling heart,” Simon smiles and it’s a sad smile, not a happy one like before. “There’s always some left. The trick is to make sure there’s plenty of other things to keep it balanced.”

By the time Simon gets him out of the bath, dried and into new clothing, Ronan is swaying on his feet from sleepiness. Simply scooping him up into his arms, Simon carries him to the common room where Markus is sitting on the couch flicking through a DPD tablet.

“All tuckered out?” Markus grins as Simon carefully sits beside him before leaning over and pressing their lips together. 

“Out like a light.” Simon whispers, shifting a little so Markus can grab a knitted couch throw and tuck it over Ronan on his lap. “Poor thing is having trouble processing his grownup feelings. They’re in there, buried deep, but he feels it on a surface level.”

“I guess that’s the hardest part of his age regression,” Markus sighs, careful to keep his voice low too so as not to disturb his slumber. They sit there in comfortable silence for a while, Markus reaching out to place his hand over Simon’s. “Is this type of life something you’d want, Simon?”

He pauses, searching for an answer in those mismatched eyes. “Once upon a time, perhaps. Maybe before, when I wasn’t a deviant yet, this would’ve sounded perfect for me. Caring for a house. Raising children. Content in such a small, insular life. But I don’t think it’s for me anymore, not with how important Jericho is, and how many of our people need our help.”

“Our people will need our help forever, Simon,” Markus warns, expression tired and vulnerable. “I don’t think there’s ever going to be an end to it.”

“I certainly don’t have forever,” Simon huffs a laugh, smile bittersweet. “But what time I do have, I willingly spend with you, and with our people.” Markus looks at him, unreadable in that regal way of his, before he kisses him slowly and sweetly, and Simon decides every moment with him feels like he’s promised forever anyway.

Ronan wakes just as Hank and Connor arrive for dinner, and he rushes over to wrap his arms around his father’s legs.

“Hey kiddo,” Hank chuckles, ruffling his hair. “You have a good day?”

“Yes it was amazing! I got to help out at a fashion shoot with Leo, and then Markus and I painted some manta rays, and then Simon let me use a bath bomb shaped like a robot!” Ronan tells him as they walk over to the dining table. “Did you work very hard on the case?”

“Yes, and Simon helped us immensely, as did Markus,” Connor informs him dutifully, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I am very glad you had a fun day with the Manfreds, Ronan.”

“And we’re very glad to have him over,” Carl declares. “I’m always happy to share my studio with such talented artists.”

The humans eat the food Simon’s cooked, and the androids eat the Tearium coded ‘soup’ which Ronan discovers tastes like creamy pumpkin and thyme. He’s never had Tearium that’s been made to taste like food rather than drinks before, but it’s nice. The heat sits well in his belly and warms him up. Looking around the table, he realises it’s not just the soup, though, warming him up. He loves this feeling, of sitting somewhere with good, kind people around him who enjoy spending time with him. It’s the best kind of warmth.

He manages sleepy goodbyes to the Manfreds and wills himself to stay awake in the car ride home even though Connor is so very warm at his side, and the temptation to sleep is so very large. He wants to sleep in a bed, though, and he wants to do it without the interruptions that falling asleep in the car would entail. If he stays awake until they get home, he can put on his pyjamas and crawl into bed and go to sleep.

Hank closes the front door behind him, and Ronan barely finishes taking off his shoes before there’s a knock on the door. Connor frowns.

“At this hour?”

“Anderson it’s me!” Someone calls out, and Ronan thinks that voice is rather familiar.

“Reed?” Hank opens the door, and there is Detective Gavin Reed standing there holding a child’s backpack.

“I err, I thought the kid- he’d” Gavin gestures awkwardly, spotting him over Hank’s shoulder before thrusting the backpack at Hank. “He might want his stuff. He might miss it, y’know?”

“Okay,” Hank says very slowly, nodding also very slowly, as though wary of the other man’s intentions.

“I just,” Gavin makes a frustrated sound. “Look, he’s not staying at mine, _obviously_ , but he has stuff from- from _before_. And he might want it. So there it is, okay bye I’ll see you at the precinct tomorrow.” He leaves before Hank can get another word in, so his father simply closes the door.

“From before?” Ronan echoes as Hank places the bag on the coffee table. It’s his bag, he knows this, only he can’t quite remember ever being given it.

“Yeah err, you-”

“Had a sleepover there,” Connor finishes.

“He does not seem like a fun person to have a sleepover with,” Ronan frowns, approaching the bag cautiously. Unzipping it reveals a large manta ray plush stuffed into the main compartment. He gasps, immediately pulling it free and squeezing it to his chest. “Oh! Look! It’s a manta ray!”

“It’s from the Bell Isle Aquarium,” Connor laughs, tweaking its tail. “It’s very cute.”

“Did we go to the aquarium? When did we do that?” He can’t remember it exactly, but he can sort of feel like it’s familiar enough it has to be true.

“Last month,” Hank pulls a pair of pyjamas out of the bag. “Aww your aeroplane jammies.”

“My favourite!” Ronan giggles, reaching for them with one hand, the other wrapped securely around the plushtoy.

“Jammies and plushie,” Hank nods approvingly. “That means you’ve got everything you need for bed kiddo, so let’s go.”

“Did you want to stay in my bedroom again?” Connor asks, and Ronan nods shyly. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll leave the door open in case Sumo wants to join us.”

Sleepy as he is, Ronan manages to do up the buttons on his aeroplane pyjamas all by himself. Crawling into bed beside Connor, his brother places the plush manta back into his arms before tucking the covers over them both. 

“Goodnight, Connor,” he whispers as his brother blinks the lights off. 

“Goodnight, Ronan,” his brother whispers back, kissing the crown of his head. “Sweet dreams, baby brother.”

Ronan closes his eyes and dreams of being in the ocean, leaping and gliding gracefully with the manta rays under the hot golden sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Robot bath bomb!](https://au.lush.com/products/everything-naked/ickle-baby-bot)  
> [Manfred Manor interiors](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/post/635649581046267904/detroit-become-human-capcom-pc-version-2019) including that gorgeous bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm still on this hellsite](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com)


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